Words: Coleen T. Houlihan
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I Found Him by the Ocean
 
"O Oysters," said the Carpenter,
"You've had a pleasant run!
Shall we be trotting home again?”
But answer came there none--
And this was scarcely odd, because
They'd eaten every one.


From the Walrus and the Carpenter by Lewis Carroll


I found him by the ocean
playing in the weeds so tall.
I found him by the ocean
bouncing a red, red ball.

Won’t you let me take you
to a beautiful nirvana?
Won’t you let me take you
to a place where blue piranhas

nibble on the skin with slick
teeth of bubble gum delight?
It tickles, I tell you this,
All throughout the night!

Don’t you want to find a way
to slip into a far-off land?
Come away with me, little boy,
just let go of your mother’s hand

and follow in an orderly line.
Let’s hurry and not partake
of the ocean waves which confiscate
your attention from my mission.

Let’s hurry, I cannot wait
for the sunny blaze to dip further down.
In the evening I find the ground
to be the perfect raspberry freeze―

a place where one can rest and play
and friends can discover several ways
to lose, to lose, to lose, to lose
all pesky sounds

like mommas yelling all around
to come home, come home, Come Home Now!
They bother and they spoil it so
the plans that I have made and kept

in a place where no one but me goes,
it’s a secret world no one but me knows―
but you are special so you see
I’ll show you how to be set free, 

and you can be a man like me.
It’s terrible the secrets kept!
With me you won’t be too small to know
and all the answers you will learn,

the key to the adult’s world.
I care you see that you be told.
Enough already! One’s never too old.
So please come here! I need you near!
 
I want to share!
I am your friend!
It’s time we begin!
Look, look the sun is nearly set!
 
Your mother, she will start to fret!
Hurry now, I hear her steps.
She’s bitter like a sourball.
The choice is yours and yours alone.

Don’t mind my tugging at your sleeve;
I’m gentle like the ocean breeze.
Hush! Hush! I’ll only carry you
a few feet further― further still!

There is an alcove you will love.
(Your hand it fits me like a glove.)
There is a place that you will see
where other little boys and men like me

have gone, have gone all long ago.
It is their footsteps I slip into,
and as I run, I carry you
into a dream I’ve dreamt for so long,

into a scream that’s become my song.
So sing it child, sing it with me.
I sing it different than your mommy
but we both mean it― every word.

I’m not the bogyman as you have heard
but a man who can only begin where you end,
begin where you end. I begin where you end!
And then…

I walk out alone
and brush the sand that clings to me still.
My hands I see them in the dim light―
I groomed that little boy; I groomed him all night.

And now I feel him in me.
He? I left under a tree,
his check resting against the stump.
Like a workman rising after lunch

I walk off into the night
and reflect that I was right,
his skin was as smooth as satin
and not at all as rough as mine. 
                    
                         
*

 
That day has long since passed;
with my grandchildren I take the time
to admire how the blades of grass
do sway and wave in the summer breeze.

We laugh, we dance, and I try to see
the line we draw into the sand
is treaded carefully by me,
but the sun has never

found a way to fade a crimson ball
or my memory of the day
I ate, and ate, and ate, and ate.
You know, I never did know his name.

© Coleen T. Houlihan 
First published in Twisted Tongue Magazine; Issue 14.
 
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